


Party Members

by Akheloispione



Series: History's small cuttings with its large axe [3]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20949032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akheloispione/pseuds/Akheloispione
Summary: Gaël wandered long time before he realized that the mist on his way was his destination.Gaël wandered long time before he realized that the voices in his head were his allies.





	1. Billow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« There are often more shipwrecked at the bottom of a soul than at the bottom of the sea »_ (Victor HUGO)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 1 : Billow ([fr] Flot)

  


**Imagine ;**  
You're a seafarer. You are on your boat, in the middle of the sea.  
The wind caresses your skin and your hands damaged by the rope of the sails. The wind fills the veil.  
Your ship is slowly advancing on the waves. The water slips on the hull with this particular noise. The smell of salt invades your nostrils. A bird's song sometimes covers the movement of the waves. You receive on your arm a few drops of salty water, propelled by the wind.

It's light.

Everything is quiet.  
Perfectly calm.  
Too quiet.  
So empty.

« Wait… » the seafarer said to himself.  
« … Where am I ? » you thought to yourself.  
I know the way. I often fish here, I sail a lot here and I always travel here.  
Yet you don't recognize this body of water.

Everything is so familiar.  
Everything is so far away.  
But the most foreign element you identify (which you almost identify as a threat) is yourself.  
This isn’t possible. You're a seafarer. The sea has no secrets for you.  
Wait...

  
  
  
  
  


I’m a seafarer…

  
  
  
  
  


But what is a seafarer ?

  
  
  
  
  


Water everywhere. Everywhere around us.  
A fog in your head, a light mist on the horizon and clouds now darken your sky.  
The sea is grey. You drift slowly across the ocean.  
There's no doubt : you're lost.

  


Stop breathing. Feel this lack of grip, this feeling of emptiness that runs - like a thrill - through your skin, your being.  
**That's exactly how Gaël feels.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	2. Estuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« A shipwrecked man keeps the horror of the waves, even quiet. »_ (OVIDE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 2 : Estuary ([fr] Estuaire)

  


You squeeze your hand on your forehead and hope the migraine goes away.  
  
« Is everything all right ? »  
  
You recognize Trahearne's worried look.  
No, was the obvious answer. Yet you smiled painfully to reassure him.  
You don't want to see him more pained. His fine features illuminated by his darkened pattern. His ears of lowered leaves. His eyebrows frowned in a concerned expression. And in spite of this, his sweet smile is there and he comforts you.  
  
  
The headache is gone. From now on you are haggard, your eyes lost on the desert of sand and rock, immense and empty. You're a little thirsty. Water points are scarce in the Silverwastes. You see the battlefield ; at least you can imagine. Your eyes are as if veiled by a mysterious mist.  
  
« So... » the sylvari's voice is firm yet hesitant. You know what he's going to say.  
  
  
_Rightward, there's a cave._

_Are we well hidden here ?_

_As long as you have the supply, the siege weapon and we're fast._

_This is our last chance._  
  
  
You close your eyes.  
Bad idea.  
The immense sky. The air everywhere. Nothing to hold on to. I'm falling. The dragon is right next door.  
We fall, side by side. The air is rushing into my armor. It scratches my face. The horizon line has disappeared. I can't tell the difference between the sky and the sea anymore. Above, below. I'm rotating. I'm swirling.  
The ground is getting closer. The impact is near.  
I close my eyes, terrified.  
  
  
_Everybody up ! Come on ! Let's get up ! We have to move from our position !_  
  
  


You open your eyes, determined though haunted. You hadn't listened to the necromancer’s question but you knew the answer. You inspire. It feels good. You had stopped breathing.  
  
« I've made up my mind. » your voice seems strange to you. It hadn't sounded that loud since you fell. As precise and persistent as that.  
  
« I will follow the Pact Commander. » you inspire to recover courage. You know the weight of your next words.  
  
« If we return in time, I will participate in the assault against Mordremoth. Otherwise, I wouldn't be with you, Trahearne. »  
  
His name rang strangely down your throat. You stutter a little. It almost sounds... as before. Trahearne shines despite your confession.  
Yes, as before.  
  
  
_This is where we part here._  


_We really don't have a choice ?_

_Alas...._

_So... this may be the last time we'll see each other._  
  


* * *

  
  
You stand up straight, confident. Your mind is focused on a clear objective. This tension you're feeling... yes... it's as before.  
You seem to see clearly, again.  
  
  
_Where are we now ?!_

_Shit...._

_Do you think we'll see the others again ?_  
  
  
You seem to see clearly, again.... _So why ?_  
_Why ?_  
_Why is the mist getting thicker ?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	3. Vertigo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« When you look back at your past life, you think you see, on a deserted sea, the trace of a ship that has disappeared. »_ (François-René CHATEAUBRIAND)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 3 : Vertigo ([fr] Vertige)

  


You are high above Eir and Faolain ; they are below, carried away by the vine.  
You don't like that feeling of fatality that takes your body, squeezes your guts, gets your goat.

And then everything went so fast and paradoxically so horribly slowly. The acceleration in a slow motion. A zoom on the retreat.  
Braham screamed. Rytlock roared. But you didn't move, frozen in your contemplation. Eir is motionless. Immobile. Faced with her fate.  
One moment, you meet her eyes. That... outdated look almost desperate. That look she gave you... before. That look she gave you just before you fell from the sky of Arah.  
You saw in her eyes this helplessness in the face of the escaping reality. Like water slipping through the seafarer’s fingers. You thought for a moment you read your first name on her lips....  
Your previous first name, the one from before.  


When you approach Eir's lifeless body, a wave of memory flows in. Memories that were lost in that huge void.  
You remember...  
You have a headache... All this information you're rediscovering is jostling in your head. And yet you're almost ready to smile.  
You remember...... Something other than your fall.  
I remember her.

  


*

  
The first time you saw her was when the Destiny's Edge gathered at the Lion Arch. She was great by her legend but she was also very weakened by her mistakes and doubts. Her burden made her bend.

You found her in the Ascalonian Catacombs, desperate to find a solution even if she were to put herself in danger.  
The ghosts were chasing her. They're following you too.

You just had time to see it in the Sorrow's Embrace. She disappeared as violently as your memories after your fall.

Her condition had worsened when you saw her again, the Honor of the Waves. She was so depressed that her life no longer mattered to her. The opinions of her classmates were very important to her... maybe too important.  
You too care too much about others... to the point of hiding the truth from them : the original commander didn’t die falling from the sky of Arah. I know that because you're this commander.  
But you preferred to lie because you were afraid of their reaction. For fear of the responsibilities you would have. You’re afraid to disappoint them.  
This fear that struck you when you woke up, you felt it again in this memories, through Eir. You are a little bit alike.  
If only you had known each other better. If only you hadn't been afraid. You would never have dug that gap that separates you from the others.  
  


* * *

  
It's too late now. The ditch has disappeared, overwhelmed by water and tears. I drown internally in grief.  
  
_I'm sorry._  
  
_It's my fault. If only... I hadn't gotten lost on the way._  
  
_Was there only a good way ?_  


Your eyes are full of tears.  
Memories flow as fast as reality swallows you up.

  


*

  


It was a common enemy that brought you together. It was at the heart of the battle that you really knew him.  
The battles you shared. Your battle against Zhaitan. Her intelligence, hee strong voice of strategy, her skill in the arrows. This pure and ethereal technique she used with her bow. The way the rope was twisted. Its immense shadow that protects you and guides you to the light. And her eyes : they are those of the Wolf who tells you that you will never be alone. Her eyes widening as you fall off the bridge. Her face leaning over the Airship as you fall into the void.  
The last look in the Ruined City of Arah.

  


*

  


Today, the fog has dissipated a little. And this small mist revealed your fallen sister-in-arms.  
  


* * *

  
You turn around. Your eyes are sharp. The Commander moves back a little, surprised. Despite his norn size, he seems to have been afraid.

_Is it the fear I see in your face ?_

You never questioned the decisions of the Substitute and Supply Commander. But, now, your old self has regained the upper hand. You don't accept this decision.  
There's no way we're leaving Braham alone. There's no way in which we're leaving Eir alone again.

_Even in death, we will be side by side._

The New Commander is a norn. Eir is a norn legend. You don't understand his decision. You're going to protest more....

The memories are already fading.  
The commander you used to be… is no more. You are no more. You are nothing. Just a lost seafarer.  
You're clenching your teeth. You hide your tears. You bow your head, submissive in your unfortunate perdition. You follow the Commander. You're moving away from the corpse. You just take one last look at this ghost memory.

_Are you with us ? Your eyes are far away._  
  
_I don't feel very well. I feel like... dizzy._

The world around me began to spin like a ship swept away in a whirlwind. And then everything falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	4. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« The eternal silence of these infinite spaces frightens me. »_ (Blaise PASCAL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 4 : Silence ([fr] Silence)

Trahearne has a time to reflect when he sees the Commander approaching with Caladbolg. He doesn't seem to understand why the norn performs that.

« Kill me, Commander. »

His golden eyes keep staring at you. And when the title rings, you know.  
He doesn't seem to understand why the norn performs that because it's only you he's talking to.

You're hoping for some advice. Anything ! What are the voices doing in my head ?  
Usually, they debate all the time, to the point that the only thing you ask for is speechlessness.  
But today silence frightens you.  
A wake.  
I remember that silence.  
You're desperately looking for their voices in your memory. You try to imagine their opinions. But you fail. The only thing that comes to mind is the emptiness under your feet and the silence around you.

* * *

  
You have lost your memory following your fall from the Arah’ sky ; -you- the famous commander who defeated Zhaïtan, -you- the second-in-command of the Pact who sacrificed himself for peace, -you- the second of the Marshal.  
When you look at Trahearne, your old self hurts. Inside, somewhere in the deep, you suffer with and for your marshal. But his title and his name sound empty. Purposeless. Meaningless.  
  
  
You don't know Trahearne, the one who built the Pact with you. The friend and the marshal, who brought so many people together, no longer exist in your memory. Only the Firstborn who was leaning over your bed when you woke up after your fall. Only the eldest of the sylvari who is worried about your wandering. There is no more warm from Trahearne, no more smiles between you.  
Just a huge space similar to the sky.  
You've tried everything to fill that void, to remember. But when you try, reality deforms, memories are formed and immediately vanish to reveal only a blue immensity whose color is bland.  
  


*

  
Suddenly, as for Eir, your muzzy eyes brightened with this fatal light. The light that shows you the precipice into which you are sinking but it’s already too late. You can only contemplate death, illuminated by the blazing radiance.  
Your marshal's golden eyes shine with dark hope.  
You stand up straight like the handle of the scythe. You step forward, carried away by that strange spark of energy that pushes you to extinguish the weak candle and leaves you in the eternal night.

The slightest of your steps resonates in the absence of noise. The sound is multiplied tenfold and has an impact on the walls of the place. It almost looks like there's a group of people walking at a funeral procession. An echo.  
You grab the broken blade from the hands of the undecided Commander, who trembles and hesitates.  
The sword is as heavy as the silence that sets in. Heavy with a burden that only you can carry without sinking.

* * *

  
A disgusting crackle tore the silence.  
The clouds of the night are spreading and you see through the rays of the moon, in the reflection of the amnesic ocean, Apatia.  
You have found yourself completely disconnected from reality; the present fades away and the mist of the past disappears. The unconscious buried time is revealed.  
  
  


A disgusting crackle tore the silence.  
Your companions, your comrades are watching you.  
The blade tears the flesh of the lifeless body.  
You look up with a desire to vomit.  
  
« Our mission is accomplished. Let go, now, to do our duty. »  
  
  
The Commander is watching you. You've never been so firm, direct, straight and focused. He's never seen you... before.  
The others are staring at you too. The voices are still in their temporary mutism.  
  


* * *

  
And as in the past, you walked away from the body with the split chest. You walked away like the ferryman of Death. Your movements are slow, fluid. The air is slipping around you. You are like a boat that slides gently over the sea ; a sea as smooth as the fabric of the sheet that will serve as a shroud.  
  
  
The feeling of constantly falling has disappeared.  
The ground under your feet no longer escapes. It’s cracking under your weight. You move so lightly but your body is heavy with a more unbearable burden than this feeling of loophole and wandering.  
The absence I feel has no hope of being filled again. And I can't forget this missing presence that can't be replaced.  
The past emptiness and the present one form a hollow in the heart of your stomach. You're nauseous.  
Nevertheless, you concentrate on not letting anything appear as you knew how to do it so well before. You walk with strength, determination and faith out of the Dragon's Stand.  
  
  
You remembered to have told at Trahearne that you would follow the Commander. Obviously, you haven't forgotten. But you can't stop yourself from walking. You're lost but you still keep moving in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	5. On the loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« The shore is safer, but I like to fight with the waves. »_ (Emily DICKINSON)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ! And don't forget to leave a comment or more.

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 5 : On the loose ([fr] À la dérive)

  
_   
Ah poor bird, Take thy flight, Fly above the sorrows, Of this sad night.   
_  


It took a long time for you to be able to fight alongside the Commander again. First, because you two had a fight, after the victory over Mordremoth about the price that this war demanded. But mostly because you were in no condition to fight.  
You were charged with homicide......  
  
_Trahearne... is one of my brothers. I'd like to see him again._  
  
_Me too, but you know that's impossible as of now._  
  


*

  
While waiting for your trial, you let yourself die in prison. The nightmares kept you awake at night and reality took care of the day. Yes, the day was for me like the night.  
Completely lost, the seafarer drowned in despair.

You've gone through a series of strenuous interrogations, exhausting explanations. All you have to do now is waiting for your final judgment. You wonder why you survived Arah's sky.  
The horizon has given way to a fall... which I hope will be fatal.  
But at the last moment, an anchor held you back. You have been acquitted of your crime.  
  


*

  
You're sitting in the chair in court, too weak to move or understand what's going on. And in your empty eyes are reflected Anise. She's so sad, so afflicted, so sorry. You vaguely remember her vicious, mocking and sneaky habit of freezing your blood.

You walk out like one of this undead who made you a fallen hero. Someone's talking to you. He's talking about a summons, but you're too distracted to listen. You're too weak.  
  
_I need to talk to the Pale Tree._  
  
Anise approaches and before you leave for another wandering, she whispers excuses to you, calling you by your name... the one as before.  
  


*

  
You are in a pitiful state and yet you walked into the first bar you found. You didn't pay attention to the other customers. You ordered.  
You really didn't feel well.  
The alcohol didn't help. Your vision started to blur but you’re knocking back drinks, pounding shots, aligned the glasses because you are used to fog. You've gotten too used to not seeing clearly enough that light and clarity hurt you.  
Headache.  
And you keep drinking. Your throat is dry. You're thirsty so you drink again and again, maybe the equivalent of that ocean that drowned you in despair.  
And then everything became vague. The whole room turned, you staggered, your mind wavered. A heavy body that falls into nothingness resonates.

_He’s downed !_

_Protect him !_

* * *

  
You opened your eyes with difficulty. You have a horrible headache and a terrible sore throat.  
You know that since your fall, you've had blackouts, but now you really have no idea where you are.  
Unless... is this the realm of the dead ?  
You stand up on your elbows. Painfully. The softness of the bed folds under your weight.  
It looks like a room. A sylvari room. The room is small and there is no furniture other than the bed, a bedside table and a mirror. You stand up to go to the mirror.  
It's been a long time since you've looked at your face except in the reflection of the water.

Your unkept hair has grown in a muddle - you, who had it short and well-trimmed in the past. You now have a beard that has grown and that hardly conceals the scars you had during the war against Zhaïtan.  
No wonder people didn't recognize you. The elegant and clean on him commander had given way to a mercenary soldier who no longer took care of him. You looked older too, and your green eyes had lost their glow.

« You're finally awake. »  
You startle and turn abruptly. A shiver runs through your spine. Your skin is standing up. This melody...... In the door frame is a young human... a child.  
« We found you in an ethyl coma. »

You were about to ask the question when a Sylvari came in.  
« Mother summons you, » she announced bluntly.  
You don't understand « M... Mother ? »  
« The Pale Tree, the Dream’s caretaker, wishes to talk to you. » the little girl’s voice is so familiar to you.  
You don't know what to do, you don't know what to say. You are frozen, oppressed between the strange smile of the human and the intense gaze of the sylvari. Her eyes are severe but full of sadness. There's like resentment against you and an accusation.  
I know I'm going to have a bad time.  
  


*

  
And what a bad time you had....  
The Pale Tree wants you to become the Knight of the Thorn. She wants to make you the new carrier of Caladbolg.  
But above all, she wants you to become the Commander again, the one who succeeds the position of Marshal.  
Your breath is taken away immediately. You're having trouble breathing. Panic makes you tremble. You're suffocating unable to get out of this trance. You're like drowning; your lungs fill up but the air doesn't pass.

_Did I clearly hear what you said ?_

_Repeat ! Say that again if you dare !_

*

  
She talked a lot.

« Don't be afraid of the tempest that is coming because at the eye of this storm may be the wind of renewal that you have been waiting for so long. And even if there is nothing, then use this destructive force to push your ship into the future you want to build. »

She talked a lot. She recognized you at the World Summit despite the news of your death. And then she told you that Trahearne had never stopped talking about you, that you had a very important place in his heart.  
She talked a lot, but the only thing you remembered was that she mentioned your smile. Your smile as before.  
It's been a while since you smiled.  
Nostalgia is mixed with frustration.  
You'd like to go back to the way you were. Go back to the way you were powerful in order to be able to protect what you love. Go back to the way you were in order to recognize all these nameless faces. You want to stop being Gaël. You want to be Axel again.  
  


* * *

  
You don't know what to do. You leave the Omphalos Chamber in silence. The human and the sylvari accompany you to the gate of the Lion's Arch. You wonder about a thousand things, about how to become the Commander again and especially about the fact that you aren’t worthy of Caladbolg.  
« Caladbolg isn’t a matter of dignity. »  
You look at the sylvari who just spoke as if she had read your mind. She’s stopped in front of the asura gate, lost in her painful memories while the young human being has already crossed the portal.  
« It's a matter of love. » at her turn, she walks through the huge door leaving you alone in front of it.  
  
_Carve thy name on a moss-covered stone._  


*

When you walk through the gate, your vision has trouble getting used to the colors of the Lion's Arch. The seagulls' screams and theirs wings flapping resonate. The smell of salt invades your nostrils. The sea wind is sweeping you away. You inspire with serenity.  
Freshness. Peace. Freedom. Deliverance.

The little girl looks at you with a petty smile on her face. Her voice sounds familiar to you ; it almost sounds like the voice of....  
« Magister Axel ? Are you listening to me ? »  
You're blinking. How can she know ? I asked myself.  
  


* * *

  
She shows you the way with this enigmatic, troublesome, even amoral face. You decide to follow the kid's instructions and advice because you are too adrift in your memory, your feelings, your choices.  
Everything is confusing. And she seems to know the way. Your way.  
You follow her, accompanied by the sylvari, who has become silent again.  
You get on a bark and leave in the direction of... You get tense as you move slowly but surely towards the fortress.

_Thus is the way of nature_

_Don't be afraid. She guide you. She guides us._

The moment you stepped on the ground, you heard the water moving behind you. You turned around to see the sylvari row and move the bark away from the pontoon to leave you alone on the docks. You rush towards them. You stop when there are no more wooden boards and the sea becomes the ground.  
The child is standing on the boat as it moves away. She whispers and her echo comes to you.  
« It takes the sun and rain to see the beauty of the rainbow's colors. »  
  


*

  
Her blond hair shines in the sun ; leaves revolve around her. Water no longer returns her reflection. The sylvari has disappeared into the child's aura.

_Thus is the way of nature._

« Why do you want so much to be the Commander when you never wanted to be the commander ? You became the commander because you were there. But "there" has never been your destination. »

_You seek guidance ?_

« The shadow you're chasing isn’t your past. The shadow you follow isn’t yours, it's the others'. »

_Preserve the wilderness and it will preserve you._

« Don't be afraid of your faults because they are the ones that let the light through. »

_Go forth in her light._

« Then find this reason to fight, Knight. Fighting for what you've been given and what's dear to you. Find that reason that pushes you into darkness as you cherish the light. And shouts this reason for being until its Echo reaches the Mists. »  
  


* * *

  
The bark is far away now. You can't see their silhouettes anymore.

Everything is confusing.  
I don't have an oar anymore. I don't have a nautical chart nor map. I no longer hold the rudder of my ship.  
We would almost need a compass to find our way back.  
  


* * *

  
In front of you stands the fortress of Claw Island. You don't know if you should follow the path to Fort Stalwart.  
That's where you started for yourself. That's where it all has to start all over again.

I move my foot forward to start the first step.  
The faces of the dead look at you and they give you a hedge of honor. Your soldiers greet you.  
The seafarer jumped off the ship and swam.

  
_ Heigh-ho, anybody home, Meat nor drink nor money have I none. Still will I be very, very, merry. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Axel/Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	6. Sirens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« There are two ways to spread light : to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it. »_ (Edith WHARTON)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 6 : Sirens ([fr] Sirènes)

_Look on your path. Glorious path. Feel in the middle of the night, A little wave of hope.  
_

__

On your back, the shield that Caladbolg has become weighs a lot. You have a meeting with Chief Councilor Imann but just before you have to meet the Commander. The last time you saw each other was... you don't want to think about it.  
All this time, he's been spending it with Aurene, looking for Braham and chasing Balthazar. You took care of Lazarus and Caudecus. You rebuilt yourself during Anise's missions. You're not a fan of the Shining Blade, but it was passing the time. And time heals wounds.

__

Kasmeer entered the room with Canach and Rytlock and then walked through the door. He saw you and was first surprised. The air in the room is freezing. No one says anything. You decide that your settling of accounts will wait until later and that you have more urgent to process. You guide them to the council.

__

Slowly and surely your relationships are improving. But you have to admit that the less you discuss on sensitive subjects or the less you discuss with the Commander and the better off you’re.

__

  


__

* * *

__

  


__

_Fire ! Fire !_

__

You thought falling from the sky was the most physically painful thing.

__

_(Laughs)_

__

What do you think of the blade piercing your chest ? What do you think of the Balthazar’s sword ? He is a God of War, after all. And you, you join the afterlife, now.  
No scream can carry your pain as it really is. You can weakly distinguish the Commander’s scion, but it's already too late for you. You have no strength left. Your body is inert. Your muscles are relaxed while your heart is tense in horror and pain. Your peripheral vision blurs and you contemplate the sky that aspirated you in and destroyed you.

__

_Bad._

__

Admit it and confess it, the feeling of falling from the sky is much more comfortable.

__

  


__

* * *

__

  


__

I'm here... but here is undefined. My name is... anonymous. My function is... unknown.  
There was movement on the left so I walked in that direction. Unless it was the right one. I don't have a landmark. If only I had a map... a compass.  
As I move forward, four little balls of flaming blue lights follow me. Unlike this place, which only inspires loss, these flames comfort me.

__

The woman and the prisoner are fighting. I want to talk to the chained man because he seems to know, but the little lights come in as if to prevent me from getting closer to this living corpse.

__

One of the will-o'-the-wisp bounces along the way while the human leads me to the judge. The light seems... happy to be here.  
  


__

__

_*_

  
« Who is the judge ? » I asked.  
_He is a loyal servant of Grenth, charged with sending all the spirits who come through here to their appointed place._  
The human voice seems to have had an echo. And that whisper over her voice came... from the blue light. If that ball has eyes, they keep staring at me intensely.  


The judge explains it to me. Nenah is escorting me. The lights guide me to find a weapon and then they show me the way to the thief shadows. Their voices have proved to be valuable allies... my spirit-guardians.

__

__

_*_

  
« I remember now. My life was filled with conflict. Victory...and loss. I was a leader—a commander. » The title sounds strange. Almost lightweight. « But I don't know why I fought...what I strove for, or against. »  
« Next is your purpose. What drove you forward and ultimately led to your death. The answer is here, somewhere in the Domain of the Lost. You just have to find it. »  
« But how will I know it ? Where will I find it ? »  
« If you truly desire it...your purpose will find you. I'd start with the bird. »  
She speaks of my fate and that destiny has materialized into a white crow.  


At her words, the atmosphere shook.  
One of the will-o'-the-wisp almost screamed in ecstasy :  
_Raven come for you !_

__

Like the fog, a bird appeared. The mists formed his aerial body.  
One of the will-o'-the-wisp murmured :  
_Dear brothers, when will we sing again ? I'm beginning to forget our song._

__

My ascent as a hero was revealed to me with the power of a gust that could take me overboard. The shade and shadows of my mind have slowly dissipated : everything seems to be clearing up. Light in the darkness.  
One of the will-o'-the-wisp whispered :  
_Eyes like fire, wings like smoke. What does your heart desire, what does your soul invoke ?_

__

The events with Balthazar happened and I finally remembered.  
One of the will-o'-the-wisp told :  
_Soaring outside the door, only the night birds called out a greeting._

__

Logan, Anise, Sieran, Trahearne, Caithe, Rytlock, Kasmeer. Peace.  
Zhaithan, Scarlet, Mordremoth, Faolain. Lazarus. Balthazar.  
Wynne, Braham, Laranthir, Ruka, Canach. Freedom.  
All this names. All this faces. I remembered everything. What I had forgotten in life and in death. Something cold slips on my cheeks while a little pressure warms my heart.  
For so long, this feeling of helplessness and disorientation reigned supreme but it is finally over.

__

  


__

* * *

__

  


__

Rifts in reality, portals to the mists. You are seriously thinking about retiring permanently as Trahearne suggested to you when you came out of the coma.  
You look at the gate that opens in the sky and you get tense when you see Kralkatorrik fall, bringing with him parts of the Mist.  
You chose to help the Mist Wardens and protect the latest piece of Melandru's Realm. You want to be in the field without being on the front line.

__

The seafarer savours the feeling of land but moves slowly in order to not get lost.

__

  


__

* * *

__

  


__

When Kralkatorrik dies, the Commander invites you for a drink whereas the sun sets and its rays caress the airship. You are bathed in light, the sky around you sparkling with all colors, the sea below. You're safe now. You're no longer afraid to face the commander.

__

You wait, leaning against one of the Fort Marriner’s walls until the Commander has finished his meeting in the Vigil centerhouse. Your green eyes drifted on the people who occupy the space. An asura attracts your attention.  
He keeps calling out to passers-by about a war. And suddenly, he stops screaming to bow to a familiar frail figure. The little human girl walks towards the warrior jumping and whistling. Her blond hair swings under the effect of the sea wind before being caught in the magic of the gate. For an instant, you think you see her mysterious look at you the moment she walks through the gate. Between the two worlds, she smiles at you maliciously.

__

You straightened up from the wall and unfolded your arms under the surprise. This portal... it leads to this famous eternal war. You wonder why a child is allowed to enter when the most experienced adventurers must have a very high level.  
  


__

__

_*_

  
You approach the asura :  
« If you have questions about the Mist War, I've got answers. »  
You point the gate at the navy blue magic « Where does this gate lead to ? »  
The asura turns « This one ? It leads to the Blue Borderlands. »  
You are about to ask for information about the child and you intend to take your chance, but the Commander's meeting has just ended and he is now advancing out of the military building.  
He approaches and looks at the Mist warrior. The asura shows him no gratitude as if being Pact Commander wasn’t so important. As if he had experienced much more fascinating and impressive events.  
You're fascinated too.  


Don’t bow to fate. Don’t bow down to titles. You don't want to feel above people : you want to walk beside them like a family. You want to be able to make some decisions without being the one who has all the responsibilities, to be supported despite your choices.  
  


__

__

_*_

  
So you walk alongside the Commander to the Crow's Nest Tavern.  
Many customers have recognized you, or just the gigantic norn at your side but no one has come to disturb you. This is a good thing.  
Everything is fine, you talk quietly or at least you listen to what he says. Then for a moment, his gaze stares at you with an uncomfortable and almost suspicious intensity.  
« I'm sorry for everything, but you could have told me instead. »  


You're looking at him. It takes you a while to understand. He puts a file on the table. It's your Pact file. Surprisingly anger rises in you like the tide just before a tsunami. This may be due to being caught red-handed like a child.  
« This document should not be available to you. »

__

You surprise him with your authoritarian and severe tone.  
« I... I know perfectly well. But every time I looked for information about you, it led me to Marshal Trahearne's private archives. »  
« Curiosity kills the cat, you know. » you say irritated.  
« But I'm not charr. »  
You look at him with big eyes. You do the scene again to check if you heard correctly. You're blowing. There's no point in getting angry. It's time to take responsibility.  
  
_I screwed up pretty bad. It's all my fault !_  
  
_Mistakes are proof that you're trying._  
  
_Give them a hand To lead them To better days._  
  
« I'd rather you continue to defy the ban than make puns. » you smile slightly. The eyes of the norn sparkle.  
« So… you’re. »  
« Yes, I am. I was the commander. The one you're replacing. »  
  


__

__

_*_

  
You told him everything ; the story of commander and magister Axel, also known by the code name Gaël of Eglad. And for the first time, you hear your own story by yourself. You remember your battles, you remember your goals. You remember the bright portal of a wonderful blue and the mist that escapes.  
« I made a choice. » you put your hand through your amber hair « This war isn’t mine. I'm leaving this battlefield. »  
And for the first time, you aren’t arguing with the Commander and you aren’t keeping quiet. He doesn't dispute you and finally seems to understand your being, your problems, and your desires. He seems to realize who you really are.  


« Have you told them yet ? » he asks shyly.  
« Yes, I recently had a conversation with them. I was still hesitating, but I got the confirmation I wanted. I'm leaving. And I may never come back. »  
He sighs.

__

You continue to talk for a moment over a drink. You water yourself from freedom without abuse.

__

__

_*_

  
You're going to be separated once and for all, with no regrets, and you come to question him one last time.  
« Why were you looking for information about me ? »  
« Despite what I've shown, I appreciate you. So I wanted to get to know you better, to understand who you were. You know, those kinds of existential questions we don't really need. »  
« Oh yes, I know that too well. » You're laughing. He greets you.  
« Don't worry, I'll take care of this world, Commander ! »  
You leave without looking back. Confident, now. The sea no longer frightens me. And the land calls me.  


  


__

* * *

__

  


__

For the first time, the seafarer left the sea behind.  
You are surrounded by the sea air. I closed my eyes. You smiled. We didn't look back and we moved towards the huge blue gate.

__

What is hidden in this passage calls you. Maybe it's a trick, a trap. It may cause your death.  
But you're no longer afraid of what you're risking if you follow those voices.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Axel/Gaël (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	7. Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« The monosyllabic verse has a strange capacity for immensity : sea, night, day, good, bad, death, yes, no, god. »_ (Victor HUGO)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy !  


> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 7 : Echo ([fr] Écho)

Like the wave, the magic of the portal gently undulates and vibrates. Gaël finds it difficult to adapt to the luminosity of the new place. Then, little by little, the decor stands out : huge stone buildings, houses under the snow.  
There are soldiers everywhere ; some motionless, standing guard and others running around, almost panicking.

His green eyes are on the soldiers posted in front of him, who are looking at him as a group, as one. In the midst of the Mist warriors, the little girl stands with her mischievous smile and although she is crushed by the statues of the soldiers, she exudes an aura of grandeur ; like a goddess walking amongst mere mortals.

At the same time, he’s trying to assimilate the faces of the people watching him.  
The child is standing next to an Elonian woman with strange eyes. Just to her right is another human with green-water dyed hair. The silent female sylvari and a soundless male sylvari had fitted expressionless with the attitude of firstborns.  
On the other side, on the left, a necromancer in the posture of a nurse was standing with two charr with relentless eyes. There was also a wild asura and his acolyte at the feet of a norn warrior carrying a guild banner with a white raven on it. Other figures seemed to stand out behind this front row, but Gaël found it difficult to concentrate for so long on so many people at the same time.

« Welcome to Seafarer' rest, stranger from the ocean. » said the little girl. « We are the echo of everyday struggles. Welcome to the guild, “Mists’ Knights”. »

*

« We don't have time, so forget your integration day. »  
He's nodding his head, ready to face anything.  
« What do you want us to call you : Gaël or Axel ? »  
« Eglad. » She raised an eyebrow « Call me, please, Eglad. »

He embarks on his new life with this band of strangers, heading straight for a battle he knows nothing about. And his smile shines like a lighthouse in the night, like a compass in the perdition.  
The smell of blood, the mix of different magics, the roars of warclaws: none of this come to him. He could only feel the wind and the presence of his companions.  
_Eglad, Mists' Knight_  
His new name, his new life resounds and, in fear, the battlefield will soon give him back his echo.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Axel/Gaël/Eglad (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



	8. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _« The sea never gives up. The sea never surrenders. Winter is like a frozen skin. Autumn is a motionless wait, with the sudden clamor of the voluble winds. Summer is nothing but a fleeting reflection in the mirror of the water. »_ (Henning MANKELL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't the follow-up of the story ! It's the first draft of the story (that has changed a lot in the meantime). It's a little extra ; Have fun on another version of this story !

> Universe : History's small cuttings with its large axe ([fr] Petites coupes de l’Histoire avec sa grande hache)  
Part 3 : Party Members ([fr] Membres du Groupe)  
Chapter 7.5 : Fall ([fr] Chute automnale)

  
« Here is the Pact Commander, the slayer of Zhaïtan and Mordremoth ! »  
Chief Councilor Imann stepped up to the new hero and Eglad shuddered. He said nothing and conceded a brief greeting.  
« The Boss isn’t the slayer of Zhaïtan. It’s the former Commander who is the slayer of the Shadow Dragon, but he’s dead. » Braham replied normally, with a hint of admiration for his role model.  
« Yeah, and then Mordremoth's death was also a collective effort, as I've already mentioned. » Rytlock grunted.  
« But it's true that Eglad has taken over the torch from the late Commander. »

Kasmeer looked with support at the young human who smiled faintly at her and twisted a strand of his brown hair. Sometimes he wondered if the mesmer knew about his death and all his lies, if she had seen through his illusory life.  
No one could see the uneasiness that this discussion provoked. Every time the hero of the Pact was mentioned, Eglad was unease because no one knew the truth. The truth about the courageous Commander also Lord of the Queen's Heart land and the mercenary amnesiac Eglad.

* * *

  
After emerging from the vanquished mind of the Jungle Dragon, Eglad approached the firstborn Trahearne and discovered with horror the sad evidence at the sound of the broken voice of his beloved Marshal.  
« Kill me, Commander. »  
  
The eldest of all sylvari smiles melancholically.  
And after a few sobs, Eglad raised the sword cherished by his superior and put an end to the whole story.  
  
Caithe silently mourned her brother while the others finally rejoiced in this somewhat bitter victory. She approached and addressed Eglad amidst relieved cheers :  
« By calling you by the title of Commander, Trahearne has just named you as his successor in the Pact leadership. Take this honor to be the new Commander. »  
  


*

  
But like everyone else, blinded by their worries, Caithe had not recognized the real Commander.

Eglad, the successor to the hero who had slain the dragon of Orr, had entered the war against Scarlet as a mercenary recruited by the Pact.  
In the absence of the Commander following his death, Eglad was designated as the new guide into the light of hope and victory.  
However, Eglad had not taken the place of the former Commander: he had taken his own place again.  
Eglad is the Commander.

* * *

  
Well, was. The Pact had declared him dead, and Eglad didn’t remember that he had once been the great heroic commander who defied an ancestral dragon and led the Tyrians into battle against the unthinkable. He was dead in body and soul.  
  


* * *

  
It was then that a gigantic shadow appeared in the cloudy sky: « That’s Zhaïtan! Look at the size of that thing ! »  
The airship avoided the dragon's path and tried to slay it. The different crews shouted orders to knock the monster out of the sky.  
Eglad used his engineering skills to arm the guns of "Glorious Tyria"... But the cannons would only have their full power when the dragon was forced to stop and become an easier target. For the time being, he was flying freely in the celestial skies and threatening every airship.  
  
Eglad looked at his amber rifle, his bloody-crimson weaponry, and his yellowish aerial projection prototype. He knew his role now.  
He used his communicator, and after a few simple engineering manipulations, he plugged into the whole network. Fort Trinity lost control of the communication, and Trahearne, though convalescing, inquired about the problem and his heart missed a beat when his commander's loud and fearless voice rang out.  
**« To all air infrastructures, prepare to fire on the dragon at the point where the top of the Arah’s Tower appears. Whatever happens, you will fire. »**  
  
Trahearne's fists struck the table and the communications team jumped to look at their marshal… helpless. The communication line sizzled and an argument seemed to resonate in the background of the Commander's transmitter.  
The communications center, the Pact fleet, and the war machines heard the protests of “Glorious Tyria” and a detonation.  
« Commander, respond immediately ! State the situation. » Trahearne shouted in the lines of transmission, anguished by a premonitory pressure on the heart.  
  
Whatever was going on, it wasn't going to end well.  
  
Eglad didn't respond to his superior's requests. He knew that his scholar was no fool ; Trahearne had understood his plan perfectly. A plan from which there was no way out for the commander. He was afraid of the intonation of the words that his voice could give ; the fear present despite his courage.  
  
He activated the magic propellants under his magitech shoes and when the dragon grazed the main airship, the Commander gave an impulse and began to dash along the bridge under the shouts and protests of his comrades.  
  


*

  
The feeling of void beneath him, the sense of freedom, the burden of saving Tyria, lifted and detached from his shoulders, was without comparison.

The shock that followed broke the effect and brought him back to reality, brought him back to his mission, his responsibility. On the dragon's back, Eglad moved away from the airships and all tangible safety, his companions becoming tiny dots in the midst of less small forms.  
Between the bones bound by rotting flesh, shadows were released. The charming spectacle didn’t prevent Eglad from advancing towards the dragon's tail. He grabbed his weapon from its back and set off the explosive device. Just as he was about to fire, a jolt knocked him back onto the rotting ancestral skin; the dragon had just hit a warship.  
He regained his position and pulled the trigger, sending amplifying magic into the ammunition.

Boom ! Explosion.

« Yes ! We've carved its tail off ! » Zojja's voice resounds in the communicator.  
« It can't stay in the air! » added the crew.

The dragon toppled over and tried to grasp the only support : the Arah’s Tower. Eglad plunged his hands into the rotting body to avoid falling.  
Disgusting.  
Not to mention the spongy, fungusy touch of the dragon, the scent of Zhaitan made to retch even those who no longer had their organ ; the smell of a dead rat rising from the opening of an antic chest in which the condemned animal had rotted and macerated and whose pestilential emanation escaped like a tidal bore.  
He trembled despite his determination. But in the depths of his soul, the remugle was nothing.

What he feared most was the reactions of his team when they realized that to kill the dragon, they would have to shoot him and thus shoot Eglad, killing him with the monster. He had gathered all his boldness to prevent himself from giving up, the fear of dying catching him by the memories.  
His conscience persevered to keep him in his state of heroism and to reject the will to bury himself in the deepest abyss of Tyria as the only refuge to escape his overwhelming destiny. Only the mere thought of having to live locked in a cellar to avoid death drove him to follow his destiny.

If to get out of the cage, the bird had to tear its wings off, then it would do so. Being a prisoner behind bars is worse than stooping down to walk, to crawl.

He was terrified of losing everything.  
He was terrified of losing his recklessness just by hearing the imploring sounds of his friends. And Trahearne's silence weighed on his heart like guilt over his failures.  
He concentrated all his energy to appear confident.

**« Fire away ! »**

And no one challenged the order. They decided to honor this sacrifice by following the decision of their commander who would do anything to bring them out of this captivity, to end the terror reign of the dragon.

A voice escaped: a soft voice, calm and so quiet that all the noises disappeared. The tone with wise accents slipped over an imaginary painting of a meadow with a rainbow dress of flowers. These soothing notes are a whisper of the wind. And this consented breath :  
« Fire away. »

*

  
The ammunition penetrated the flesh.

Eglad slid down the side of the ancient dragon to the side where it was safe from fire.  
And in irrevocable hope, he threw a grappling hook...  
The thin hook slithered brittle into the stone.

The dragon roared with painful fear.

Landing on the tower was similar to the oppression of confinement. Overwhelming.

Zhaitan clung to the tower in a vain attempt.

He swore at the opening of his scars.  
He yelped at the tearing of his skin and ligaments.  
He shouted at the clacking of his back muscles.  
He screamed at the cracking of the bones in his leg.

He cried at his decay.

He implored. And he prayed again.

And he rocked himself, in a final bid to see a positive perspective, at the last voice he heard.  
_Fire away._  
That voice… that voice of that quietly resigned sound.  
Trahearne.

*

  
The deadly Shadow in its desperate agitation and weight caused the tower to collapse.  
Eglad saw the black wing cover it and felt the load of the ancient structure follow.  
Is the void that had supported the wings of the human becoming a hindrance to his aspirations to rise in these lands ?  
Is gravity becoming the ball of the slave destined to the enchained human being ?  
The oppressed servant and fatally subjected to the laws of predestination.  
And these heavy chains would soon break... ten thousand yards below.  
  


* * *

  
Trahearne completed the final report on the final battle against the dragon. Laranthir had done a good job helping him.  
The sylvari ran its finger over the names, indications, and titles that concluded the list of the war's deaths :  


_-engineer male human ; Lord Axel of Queen’s Heart land–_  
_(Hero of Shaemoor, Herald and Emissary of the Queen, Advocate of the Crown, Magistrate of Durmand Priory)_  
_Code Name : Gaël of Eglad_  
_Second-in-command of the Pact Marshal, Pact Commander : Destroyer of Zhaitan_

Laranthir sighed and delicately moved Trahearne who was sleeping on his desk. He grabbed the last report and put it in the library.

  


* * *

  
The autumn entered the Pact office. The alarms didn’t sound. The fall grabbed a booklet from a shelf.  
  
When the Current Pact Marshal entered, he saw a document that shouldn’t be on the table and shouldn’t be opened.  
It was a register containing a list of the dead. Strangely, on the open page, one of the names was crossed out as if someone had corrected an error. Logan closed the register.  
And went outside to get some fresh air and watch the sea and sky merge into the horizon. The air was fresh, but fall had long since passed.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > I don't own anything ; All the characters belong to ArenaNet except Axel/Gaël/Eglad (Original male human Character).
> 
>   



End file.
